


A Friend in Need

by Corycides



Category: Alphas, Revolution (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Revolution: pre-series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 00:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corycides/pseuds/Corycides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Battle of Trenton General Miles Matheson desperately needed a surgeon, but they weren't exactly thick on the ground. Luckily there's a nearby village that has someone who's picked up a thing or two - even if they don't remember where.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friend in Need

Trenton fell. The militia rounded up the locals who’d surrendered and lined them up in the two square, in front of the shattered, long dry fountain. Procedure was to question everyone, find out who was innocent, who was guilty and who’d just got a bit grubby getting by.

Fuck that.

‘Kill them,’ Bass ordered, voice rough and scratchy from breathing smoke and yelling orders. ‘Then burn this shit-heap.’

He turned on his heel and headed back to the command tent. Not running. Running would imply that he was worried, and he wasn’t. Miles would be fine. His hand clenched against his thigh. He had to be.

Shoving the tent flap aside he strode in, nose twitching at the smell of blood and something sourer. Miles lay on the cot, face gone grey and sweaty, while Jeremy crouched over him and swore steadily under his breath.

‘How is he?’ he asked.

Jeremy shook his head, not looking up. ‘Not good. I got the shrapnel out, but he’s still bleeding and I don’t know what damage it did inside.’

‘Fix it.’

He looked up, blue eyes glaring out of a blood-splattered face. ‘I was a fucking chemist, Bass, not a doctor. That’s what Miles needs. Actually, strike that. He needs an ER surgeon and a crash team and a goddamn blood-bank.’

‘We haven’t got any of that,’ Bass snapped. ‘So just…do it.’

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. ‘Or what.’

His eyes flicked down and Bass realized his hand was on his gun, flexed around the plastic butt till his bones hurt. He made himself let go.

‘Just do your best,’ he told Jeremy.

Outside he yelled for Neville and sent the tight-mouthed man to fetch one of the women the gang had been keeping prisoner. The one he brought, marching her barefoot over the broken ground by the elbow, was a dark-haired teenager with a black eye and a scowl. She looked reflectively unshattered.

‘You have any doctors around here?’ he asked. ‘Anyone that used to be a nurse or a paramedic or anything?’

He wasn’t expecting a yes, to be honest. The various warlords had snatched up the doctors as soon they realized the power wasn’t coming on anytime soon. They were the first people who got their throats slit when their bosses realized they were losing too. 

Instead the girl chewed her lower lip and eyed him warily. ‘I might know someone,’ she said, slowly, ‘But they might not still be there.’

Hope kicked Bass in the stomach like a horse. He actually felt winded. 

‘Who?’ he demanded, grabbing her shoulder. He shook her, making dark hair fly. ‘Where?’

The girl swallowed hard. ‘You have to take me and my sister with you when you leave. As Militia, not whores.’

She could have asked to be set up in a mansion for all Bass cared. ‘Fine. Where.’

The girl gave him a suspicious look. ‘I’ll lead you there, but she might not help you.’

‘She’ll help,’ Bass said confidently. Something in his voice made the girl quail, but she set her jaw and nodded.

 

****

The cracked and peeling sign announced ‘Welcome to Merry Waters Summer Camp’, but this was clearly more than a temporary settlement. Plants were growing in neat plots, curtains flapped in the windows and children were – or had been until the strangers rode in – playing in the square.

‘We need a doctor,’ Bass said, grabbing a woman’s arm. ‘I’ve been told you have one here.’

She took a deep breath and shuddered, mouth curling. Bass didn’t suppose he smelt too sweet, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d a proper bath and not just a pits and balls scrub in cold water, but he thought her revulsion might be a bit strong.

‘There’s none here,’ she said, cringing away from him. 

The girl stood up in the cart. ‘She’s lying,’ she said. ‘I heard them talking about a doctor when I was here.’

Bass grabbed the woman's arm and squeezed. ‘I ain’t kidding here, lady. If you have a doctor-‘

A bullet sizzled through the air in front of his nose and cracked into a nearby tree. 

‘How about you get your hands off my wife?’ a cold voice said.

Instead Bass jerked the woman in front of him as a shield, arm crooked over her throat, and turned around. A lean blonde man stood on the steps of one of the houses, an M16 held competently in his hands.

‘Look,’ Bass snapped. ‘We’re just…’

But the man was squinting at his arm. ‘Monroe?’ he said, lowering the rifle a shade. ‘Is that you?’

Monroe stared at him for a second, then it clicked. ‘Jesus,’ he said. ‘Bennett?’

The last time he’d seen John Bennett, the man had been a blister with a face in a med-evac copter. He’d heard he recovered, but…

Bass was choking his wife. He let her go, muttering apologies under her scathing look, and John strode over to grab him a rough hug. Bass could feel the bulk of stiff tissue under his shirt.

‘What are you doing here?’ John asked, stepping back.

The wife answered, putting a small hand on his arm. ‘They’re looking for a doctor. They thought Dr Rosen was one.’ She gave Bass a firm look. ‘But he’s a psychiatrist. We can’t help.’

Bass couldn’t absorb that. He shook his head. ‘He still had to go to medical school, right?’ he said. ‘Can’t he just look at Miles?’

‘Matheson?’ Bennett asked.

‘Yeah, he took a bullet.’

Bennett licked his lips then touched his wife’s shoulder, tugging her aside. They muttered to each other, the woman shaking her head insistently.

‘Matheson was the one who carried me out,’ Bennett said, voice rising a little. ‘I owe him. Rachel, please?’

Some of the steeliness leaked out of Rachel’s face as she touched his shoulder. She took a deep breath and pressed her lips together.

‘I’ll ask,’ she said. Pointing at Bass she added. ‘Keep them here.’

She ran off, dark plait bouncing against her shoulder-blades. Bass waited until she was out of earshot and gave Bennett a hard look.

‘You got a doctor here or not?’ he asked. ‘Come on, man. If you’re hiding one here, I’m not gonna tell anyone.’  
Bennett shook his head. ‘It’s not that,’ his mouth twitched. ‘It’s kinda complicated, and she ain’t exactly a doctor. Look, let Rachel do her thing.’

When Rachel came back, though, she was trailing a little kid along with her, not a doctor. The squeeze of Bennett’s hand over his made Bass realize he’d reached for his gun again. He didn’t let go. 

‘She won’t budge,’ Rachel said, pulling her hair out of her face. ‘Not after last time, she doesn’t trust herself.

The kid pushed her hoodie back. ‘I’ll look,’ she said. Bass growled at her.

‘Who the fuck are you then? Dougie Howser?’

She gave him the finger. 

Rude little…

‘Kat’s my old partner,’ Bennett interrupted. ‘She’s DoD. Was DoD. She’s just a short-arse.’

She gave him the finger too. Bass stared at her. She wasn’t just short, she looked…unbothered, all smooth skin and wide, clear ears. What other choice did they have? If she could help Miles, he’d kiss her short arse, if she couldn’t…he’d burn this hole John Bennett or no John Bennett.

‘So, you’re a DoD agent and a doctor?’ he said.

She shrugged and Bennett said with ‘shut up, asshole’ cheer, ‘Kat’s a bit of a jill of all trades around here.’

What the fuck was going on? Bass wasn’t missing how nervous Rachel Bennett was, or the fact that people who carried themselves as if they were dangerous were drifting into the square. He just decided he’d work it would later, walking around to the back of the cart to give the short-arse a boost up.

She squeezed past Jeremy and dropped to her knees next to him, gingerly peeling the bandage back from Miles wound. Her face creased in a frown as she poked at the edges carefully, then cleared. She popped up over the side.

‘I totally know how to fix this,’ she said, sounding relieved. ‘If you just take him into the infirmary…’

‘We can’t do that, Kat,’ Rachel said. She looked away from John, pleating her skirt between her fingers. ‘Harken says he knows who they are. They’re one of the militias, we can’t have them here.’

‘Oh come on,’ Kat protested. ‘The guy needs help.’

‘Not here,’ Rachel said. ‘I’m sorry, John. They have to go.’

She gave him one of those couple looks, all intent eyes and raised eyebrows, and then walked away. Bass stared after her, Why had she even brought Kat down if they weren’t going to help? Just to screw with him?

Kat swung over the side of the cart and landed lightly. ‘I’ll go grab some stuff from stores,’ she told Bennett. ‘You meet me down the road at that old cabin.’

She took off running, blonde hair flying behind her. Bennett caught the expression on Bass’ face and pulled up a tight smile.

‘Kat isn’t great at following orders,’ he said. ‘Especially not ones that go against what she thinks is right.’

The easiest way wasn’t always through, sometimes it was around. Bass gave thanks for old friends with smart wives and scrambled up into the cart. Bennett jumped up next to him, slinging the rifle over his back. One of the dangerous-looking lurkers – a heavy-shouldered black man with a close trimmed beard – started down the hill.

‘Better get going,’ Bennett said. ‘That’s Harken.’

Bass snapped the reins, making the horses snort and twitch their ears. He pulled them around in a tight circle and headed back out past the sign. Glancing back over his shoulder he saw Harken stop and scowl bleakly.

‘Bennett, you be back here tonight,’ he yelled.

Bennett just waved over his shoulder, looking guilty but not – Bass checked – worried.

By the time they reached the farmhouse, Miles was worse and Jeremy had gone all tight lipped and unhappy. Bennett helped them carry him inside and douse the old kitchen table down with water. It wasn’t exactly sterile, but it was better than nothing.

‘You’re sure Kat will be able to get away?’ Bass asked, gripping Miles’ hot shoulder. 

Bennett nodded. ‘She’s tougher than she looks, and Harken listens to her. Besides, she can kick his ass.’

A few minutes later Kat jogged up to the doorstep, pack slung over her narrow shoulders. Jeremy greeted her with a barrage of medical mumbo-jumbo that she nodded her way through as she stripped off her jacket and hoodie. Beneath them she was all narrow shoulders and bird-boned wrists. She didn’t look like the type of girl who could kick a bruiser like Harken’s ass.

‘OK,’ she said, flexing her fingers. ‘Let’s get surgical.’

Bass wanted to stay but after five minutes she told him to leave or she’d stab him in the eye. It was probably against the Hippocratic oath, but she didn’t seem to care. Dragged outside by Bennett, Bass sat on the dusty porch and listened the rustle and buzz of the country – and the groans and squelching sounds of surgery.

‘You gonna tell me what’s going on up there?’ he asked abruptly. Anything to take his mind off what was going on in there. 

Bennett skated a rock over the yard, stirring up leaves on the way across. ‘Nope,’ he said. ‘Look, if I didn’t know you, if I didn’t know Matheson? I’d have agreed with Harken.’

‘I meant how an ugly mug like yours managed to net that pretty lady with the nice ass,’ Bass asked, shifting the topic smoothly. That didn’t mean he wasn’t even more curious.

The jibe earned him a punch on the shoulder and a snicker from Bennett. On the cart their guide lay down on the padded seat, tucking her arms around herself. It got dark while they waited, that weird total darkness that you only ever used to get in the middle of the desert. Not even a flicker of light on the horizon. Someone inside lit a lantern.

By the time the door finally opened Bass was dozing over his eyes and he had to scrub the sleep out of his eyes. Kat hopped down the steps and flooped down cross-legged in the dirt. Her hands were scrubbed pink and wet, but there was a smudge of blood at her hairline she’d missed.

‘He’s going to be OK,’ she said. ‘You’ll need to make sure the wound stays clean and that he doesn’t get an infection. Do you have antibiotics?’

‘Some,’ he said.

She nodded. The delicate lines of her face were solemn as she ticked off her orders on her fingers, ‘Good, you remember how to dose him up with them. Do that and he should be and about in a month.’

Bass slid down onto his knees and pulled her into a hug, heaving a sigh of relief into her hair.

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I owe you.’

She squawked in surprise, then laughed and thumped his shoulder. ‘You’re welcome, dude. Just…head out, ok? Some people around here aren’t as easy going as me and Bennett.’


End file.
